Journal Entry -- March 14, 2007
Yesterday was one of those typically good days in an agrarian life, though there were some embellishing moments that go with working closely with animals. It started right after Sam & Sadie had finished their morning chow and took in a lengthy draft of water. I was standing in the corral looking out over our back paddock with the two long eared ballerinas behind me. Apparently, Sam decided to pay me a kind thanks for the delicious breakfast. As I was turning around, I found myself looking at point blank range up his football field length face into his deep brown eyes, wherein he immediately placed his warm, wet prehensile lips -- dripping with water and saliva -- smack dab on my face, which soaked my beard. Ah yes, there is nothing like a brisk face plunge of warm saliva seasoned with hay to start one’s day. Thanks Sam.
Later in the afternoon as we were harnessing them they performed their punctual pre-work bowel release, of course, right at our feet where we need to work. No problem, that just goes with the territory. However, their timing was perfect as the lines from Sadie’s harness just happen to fall into the fresh pile, which she immediately stirred up with her rear hooves. Now, normally I have my gloves on but I had loaned them to Jeff because he gets an allergic reaction working with the mules without them. There simply wasn’t time to wait, as the lines needed to be properly secured, no matter that they were disappearing into the rich, olive drab pile. I grabbed them with my bare hands and disengaged them. Yup, I had olive drab colored hands. Fortunately for me there was a spigot close by so after a few minutes of vigorous hand rubbing under the cold water, I was ready to do it again. Don’t ask me how it happened, but they managed to fall a second time, so I was back to the hand coloring process followed by the cold plunge. Some days no matter how careful you are things just go awry and a wet.
The beard soaking, green hands, and harnessing were now behind me; it was time for the gravy. After using the team to fetch the logging arch which was parked in front of our shop and driving it back to the front paddock, I was ready for a long wagon ride around the Rocky Fork Creek-Crooked River loop. It was a little on the warm side, about 72 degrees with high humidity. The stiff breezes were delightful, only the longer I went the cooler it got, until I realized that I was being soaked in a fine mist of Missouri mule sweat that was pouring off of Sam & Sadie and blowing back on me. It wasn’t too bad, as I made several stops to rest them . . . and myself. My ribs still hurt but working the lines seemed to help relieve the pain. Oh well, it’s all in a day of Missouri muleskinning, which I wouldn’t trade for anything.
We managed to film a good portion of yesterday’s ride and depending on how it came out, we will be making a DVD available for those of you who want to see a little of our neck of the woods from our viewpoint, behind a team of grand sorrel draft mules. I’ll keep you posted, should it work out. --- The Missouri Rev
Later in the afternoon as we were harnessing them they performed their punctual pre-work bowel release, of course, right at our feet where we need to work. No problem, that just goes with the territory. However, their timing was perfect as the lines from Sadie’s harness just happen to fall into the fresh pile, which she immediately stirred up with her rear hooves. Now, normally I have my gloves on but I had loaned them to Jeff because he gets an allergic reaction working with the mules without them. There simply wasn’t time to wait, as the lines needed to be properly secured, no matter that they were disappearing into the rich, olive drab pile. I grabbed them with my bare hands and disengaged them. Yup, I had olive drab colored hands. Fortunately for me there was a spigot close by so after a few minutes of vigorous hand rubbing under the cold water, I was ready to do it again. Don’t ask me how it happened, but they managed to fall a second time, so I was back to the hand coloring process followed by the cold plunge. Some days no matter how careful you are things just go awry and a wet.
The beard soaking, green hands, and harnessing were now behind me; it was time for the gravy. After using the team to fetch the logging arch which was parked in front of our shop and driving it back to the front paddock, I was ready for a long wagon ride around the Rocky Fork Creek-Crooked River loop. It was a little on the warm side, about 72 degrees with high humidity. The stiff breezes were delightful, only the longer I went the cooler it got, until I realized that I was being soaked in a fine mist of Missouri mule sweat that was pouring off of Sam & Sadie and blowing back on me. It wasn’t too bad, as I made several stops to rest them . . . and myself. My ribs still hurt but working the lines seemed to help relieve the pain. Oh well, it’s all in a day of Missouri muleskinning, which I wouldn’t trade for anything.
We managed to film a good portion of yesterday’s ride and depending on how it came out, we will be making a DVD available for those of you who want to see a little of our neck of the woods from our viewpoint, behind a team of grand sorrel draft mules. I’ll keep you posted, should it work out. --- The Missouri Rev
posted by Missouri Rev | 10:22 AM
1 Comments:
Some days we are just meant to be in it. =) I would love to come take a ride with you behind those beautiful mules. One day I would love to have one.
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